The Whisperer of the Abyss:
Sandy’s Never Ending Monday Rants - Journal Entry 14
Fiction that's based on real life. All names were changed, just in case.
Unnecessary Surprises
The weekend was the dating scene.
I met Mooch, and he decided not to buy me a coffee. Now, when I get my own coffee, it means I dislike the date. Before the date started, the person already signalled that I should not like them.
When people go out for dinner it's different; here, it's a 5-10 minute date for a coffee, that is all. Even a homeless person could find $2 to pay for a coffee. There should not be a problem.
I said, “Coffee costs here less than 2 dollars. If you wouldn't buy me a coffee, there will be no date.”
Mooch grudgingly stood up with a scoff and snailed toward the counter, all annoyed. Paid for the coffee, snailed towards the table, and wore a sour face.
Once sat down, Mooch and I discovered that we worked in a related field. My eyes shone, and I was excited to hear what else we, both, liked to do. This one is my guy, I thought. That very moment, Mooch spilled the beans about his previous date in great detail. Not sure I wanted to hear it, but maybe he had nothing else to say.
I thought to myself; if he just went on a date with a woman two days before we went on a date, then how many dates does he go on per year - I assumed, 100/year at least or more. Now he's in his forties, so 100 times 20 years. This would be 2,000 people. In another 20 years, he'd be in his 60's and that would be 4,000 people. He would still hypothetically go on dates with other people since he had no pause between going on a date with the person two days beforehand and then going on a date with me; all that happened when we e-mailed each other for two weeks. Hypothetically, based on the presented information, he must have gone on 6 or 7 dates, before going on a date with me. What did he do on those dates? Therefore, this person, Mooch, does not care about long-term relationships and is on a roll of dating a few people simultaneously - he's broken for sure.
My thoughts aside, the date continued.
He picked up a woman from a subsidized housing location, went to a junk food restaurant with her for a date and then let her pay for her food. The ending of the story sounded abrupt, thus, there may have been a scene of sorts.
The fact that he was willing to pay for my coffee was impressive. But, at the same time, I felt bad for the woman. Like, if men don't want to pay for a date outing, they should announce it at the beginning to eliminate unnecessary surprises.
He then said that I must join Clutzky's church for women because he goes to one for men. On with a water stream, he continued that I have to pay his rent, buy him food, drive him places and buy him things. Eventually, I will have done that because I like buying stuff and gifting gifts. Like, if I were to move in, then I would. The meetings with a bunch of women at a Clutzky church weren't appealing, because, after work, it is time for myself. Weekends are mine too.
Back to Mooch. We hugged at the end and he felt embarrassed. After the hug-test failure, it was a no-go.
One image stuck out; a cold fish flopping on a wooden deck of a boat. Where Mooch was the fish, I was the air, and water was where Mooch belonged. The deck was where Mooch wandered off by mistake.
Mooch e-mailed me for a second date later that evening, as though sharing my impression before the hug test.
So, I told Mooch that he is exactly like my authority figures who take, take, and then when there is nothing left, they take some more. Mooch said I needed to visit a psychologist, and I agreed with him. Some psychologists don’t know psychology - I only found that out later.
I was glad he thought that it was me and not him. Mooch should learn his life lessons at his Clutzky church from other men; where men teach men how to men.
He could have analyzed everything himself, but I have mathematically deduced that he was too aloof and ignorant for his own good.
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